The land was the old MGM lot where The Wizard of Oz had been filmed. The gated community had a huge man-made lake. A beautiful recreation building sat at the water’s edge. Inside the building were a party room and a gym. The lake was long and lined with olive trees. Ducks floated on the water and bathed near the fountains that peaked out of the water. You would have thought you were in an exotic place somewhere far from the busy city, but on the other side of the big block walls, the traffic and craziness was all still there. It was a beautiful property, secure and guarded.
Alex’s and my lives meshed well, and it felt good to be loved at last. I hadn’t dated much in high school, even though all my friends had been boys. Girls were too catty for me, and between my big mouth and my shyness, most girls never knew what to make of me. It seemed as if I was always searching for love and friendship, but I never found it until Alex came back into my life. Comfort came in the piece of Boston that Alex gave me. When I looked at him, it made me feel like I was still in touch with the good memories from home.
~*~*~
School was a priority, and it kept me busy. Before I knew it I only had one more year of college to go and wasn’t sure what I wanted to do after that. Alex graduated, and without a lot of fanfare, he went straight to work. His father lined up a job for him through a business connection with a big company in Century City, and it was a great starting position with a hefty salary. He worked hard and long hours since he was new and still learning. He had to prove himself.
My senior year was tough, but I knew with my full attention I could finish. I often felt tired and emotional, which at first I thought was due to being run down. After a few months, however, I found out I was pregnant. I was so afraid Alex would be upset when I told him; instead, he was happy and said it was the best Christmas present he had ever received. Somehow, I made it through school, pregnant and exhausted, but the accomplishment made it worth it. When I graduated in May, our parents were there to celebrate with Alex and me. I was six months pregnant and feeling oversized. I still had three more months to go and knew by the end I would be huge.
My mother was there for my graduation, and it was the first time she had visited me in California since I had lived here. I always went to visit her because she said it was “easier” and that I could visit my family. I had always agreed, but it was nice to have her in the place I now called home.
Alex and I sat next to one another during the graduation dinner, with our parents surrounding us on all sides.
“Your aunt hasn’t been feeling well lately, and her kids are driving her crazy. She’s always calling me to complain, and I tell her in all seriousness that I don’t want to hear it,” my mother said, and then she sighed. My mother was a tall woman with a round face who, even in her late fifties, had flawless, cream-colored skin. I had her natural hair color, which was a russet brown. Since going grey, she had been reduced to dyeing it, but it was nearly impossible to tell. I wished I had her soft-looking skin, though.
I loved my mother so much, but she had a tendency to talk about nonsense. She was the type that would stop and tell a complete stranger her life story. On one of my visits back home, we drove to Rockport, a small coastal town with quaint shops, to go window-shopping and see the sights. We found a great store that sold magnets in an array of designs. I broke off to browse, and when I found my mother, she was talking to a store employee. For no less than forty-five minutes, she told story after story of her life. The lady was much too polite to say anything or interrupt her, not that she had a chance; my mother didn't even break to breathe. I saved her by purchasing a couple of magnets and ushering my mother out of the store. Now here she was, talking my ear off.
“God, Mia, and then she starts to complain about my brother and how he never helps her with those kids because he’s always working. But the truth is he’s home every night in time for dinner, and then goes over their homework and stuff. I just think she’s a chronic complainer—”
The dinging sound of the silverware against a glass brought us out of our conversation. I was relieved. If my mother didn’t want to listen to my aunt telling her all that nonsense, I didn’t know what made her think I wanted to hear it.
Clink Clink. Clink.
“Can I have your attention, please?” To my right Alex stood, clinking his glass with a big smile on his face. When he was sure he had everyone’s attention, he pushed his chair back and got down on one knee and turned to me.
“Mia, I am so happy with you and so thankful that we ran into each other at that football game. I can’t imagine spending my life with anyone else. Will you marry me?”
I was in shock. I hadn’t expected a proposal, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized it was perfect. My hands were crisscrossed over my chest, and my breathing was heavy. I had tears streaming down my cheeks, contradicting the big smile on my face. Looking down, I saw Alex’s hands were holding a small, open red box with a beautiful solitaire diamond ring. It was gorgeous.
My mother cleared her throat to snap me out of my stupor. I looked up and noticed Alex's smile began to falter, and I realized he was waiting for my answer.
“Yes, yes I’ll marry you!”
Alex’s face smoothed, and the smile became genuine again. He plucked the ring out of the box and placed it on my finger.
The whole restaurant burst into applause, and the staff began singing a congratulatory song in Italian. I looked around at my loved ones and then at Alex. I could do it; I could be a wife and a mother. It all seemed so easy. Little did I know this was a decision that would plague me for years to come.
Alex and I decided that since the baby was coming soon and we wanted to be married before then, it would be wise to take advantage of having everyone in town already. We applied for our marriage license immediately, and after the two-day waiting period, we got married in the courthouse with our parents as witnesses. I had never thought about getting married before and didn’t care much about what type of wedding I would have. As far as I was concerned, it wasn’t about the wedding itself; it was more about the couple connecting.
A huge celebratory dinner followed at Paco’s Tacos. I invited Susan, and Alex invited a few of his closest buddies from school. It was a nice evening and great to have all of our friends and family with us.
After dinner, Alex’s mother squeezed me tight and whispered in my ear, “Mia, I’m so glad my boy found you all the way over here. A nice Italian girl from the neighborhood.” I hugged her back and thanked her. “You call us when that baby comes, okay?”
“We will, Mrs. Greco.” I gave her one last hug before she stepped back so her husband could hug me goodbye. They were all going home, and I was sad. Everyone had to get back to work and on with their lives.
My mother spoke next. “Honey, now you call me if you need anything. I want to know when my grand baby comes, and I’ll try and make it out here to help. It depends on what my schedule is at the time. But you know I’ll try,” my mother said.
As she was boarding the plane with Alex’s parents, she was still shouting things out to me. I was so used to it that I almost didn’t get embarrassed anymore, but Alex’s ears were bright red. Well, it was time for him to get used to his new mother-in-law.
Chapter 4
Mother May I
Our beautiful little girl was born on the tenth of August, two weeks late. She was perfection with her long nose, pink, full lips, and head full of russet-colored hair. She was the spitting image of me, save the crystal blue eyes. Lucia Grace, the light of my life, weighed in at seven pounds, eight ounces, and was twenty-one inches long. When I held her in my arms for the first time, I knew I had someone to love me back forever — someone who would need me and never leave me. I knew in that moment that the unconditional love between a mother and a child could never be broken. She was my whole heart and soul from that day forward.
I called my mother as soon as she was born, because she wasn’t able to be there. She was so excited for us and begged
us to take tons of pictures for her. My dad sat proudly in the waiting room for his turn to hold his granddaughter. It was strange watching my dad hold her, and it made me wonder if he had held me like that when I was a baby. Did he look at me with the same pride he had when he looked at her? And if so, then why had it been so easy for him to leave me? I knew I would never ask those questions and didn’t want to ruin the moment with my self-pitying thoughts. Instead, I took many pictures of my baby girl with my dad and with my one true friend, Susan. I knew I would cherish those memories forever and have them to share with my baby girl when she was old enough.
Life moved in a flash after Lucia’s arrival. Dirty diapers, midnight feedings, rocking her in the chair, and watching her sleep occupied my time. I hadn’t noticed at first, but Alex continued to work long hours even after the baby was born. It didn’t matter to me at the time because I was lucky enough to stay home with our baby.
When she turned three years old, Lucia was able to enter pre-school. I wanted to work while she was in school; I needed to get out in the job market before I was considered useless and too old.
I was lucky enough to find a job at American Airlines as the administrative assistant to the station manager of LAX, Los Angeles International Airport. I loved my job, and my boss was very flexible and understanding with my hours. He never gave me trouble, even when I had to leave to pick up Lucia from school activities, or when I had to deal with her colds and flus.
~*~*~
It was September, and my baby girl had just started kindergarten. When I looked in the mirror, I noticed my light russet hair had a few grays, and my honey brown eyes were starting to look sunken in. My face was haggard, with dark circles and bags under my lower lids, although my fair olive skin still looked supple. I knew I was still semi-young; I had just turned twenty-eight in April. I just wondered if my appearance was starting to reflect my age and exhaustion.
Things had been rough for us, and our family unit had changed so much. The caring and attentive Alex from the beginning of our relationship was no longer present, physically or emotionally. He continued to work as if it was the only thing important in life. His routine was to wake up in the wee hours of the morning and come home well after Lucia was in bed. I convinced myself he did it for us, so we could live in comfort, but I began to wake from my five-year baby fog and realize that I was happy without him. I thought about trying to change our situation and encourage him to spend more time with Lucia and me. It was sad how the past five years had flown by and how Lucia barely knew her daddy.
At the beginning of November, I decided I would wait up for Alex to come home. I wasn’t quite sure what time he got home on a regular basis because I was always asleep before he arrived. I took a shower and shaved, then lathered myself in lotion and put on a sexy nightgown. It was lingerie, and it was prettier than the sweatpants and too-big T-shirts I sometimes wore to bed. I must have dozed off while waiting for Alex, but I woke up when I heard the shower running. Glancing at the clock, I saw it was twenty minutes past midnight. I wondered for a moment if that was the time he came home every night, which led to the thought of how odd it was for a CEO to be working that late every single day. I felt insecure about my decision to wait for him; it had been a long time. I thought about his reaction to finding me awake and waiting for him.
He walked out of the bathroom, flipping the light switch before he crawled into bed. I smelled the musk from his body wash and some mint from his shampoo when he climbed in next to me. He was on his side, facing away from me, so I scooted closer and wrapped my arm around him. Alex jumped as soon as my arm rested on his body.
“Hi,” I said, for lack of anything better to say
He rolled toward me slightly and replied, “You’re awake?”
“Yeah, I was waiting for you. I wanted to surprise you.”
“Surprise me?” he questioned, with doubt and sarcasm in his voice. He was trying to be hurtful, and it was working.
Beginning to regret this whole idea, I realized I should have just left things the way they were; it would have been easier than putting myself out there just to get stomped all over.
“Well, I thought it was a good idea. I thought we could, you know, spend some time together.”
“Mia, I’m tired. I just want to sleep. Maybe another time.”
“Fine. Sorry to bother you.”
What in the world? He wanted to schedule sex with his wife? This was what my life had come to.
A few hours later, I awoke to the sun shining through the window. As the first part of my morning routine, I slid my hand across the spot next to me on the bed, and as always, the sheets felt empty and cold. I felt stupid and vulnerable after what I had done the night before. After I’d gathered my courage and taken a chance to connect with my husband again, I’d been rejected. It left me cold, empty, and very hurt. I supposed it was my own fault for not doing it sooner, for allowing things to change between my husband and me, and for not trying to keep our marriage alive. I had heard from watching those daytime talk shows that sex was the first thing to go in a relationship, and when it did, it meant the couple was in a bad place. I had also heard that the hardest thing to do was to get the passion back and that restarting intimacy was a very difficult thing to accomplish, but if the relationship was important and worth saving, it should be done. Most women thrived on the emotional part of the relationship, and most men thrived on the sexual part. If either one felt slighted, they would look somewhere else for satisfaction. I thought perhaps I had fulfilled my emotional needs by loving my daughter with all my heart. With who and how did he fulfill his part? Because it wasn’t with me.
I flipped the sheets back and walked into the bathroom. The beige tile was cold, so I hopped to the big, dark, red mat in front of the shower. I turned the knobs to let the water heat up and proceeded to get undressed. My favorite room in the house was next to the water closet. My walk-in closet was grand; it displayed all of my shoes and purses and had ample space to hang all of my clothes. Alex’s was on the other side of the toilet and was the same size. This feature was what had persuaded us to rent this condominium, and now it was all ours. The owners had sold it to us a year ago, and I was so happy I wouldn’t have to worry about moving or finding a new place that suited us.
I showered and got dressed in a knee-length black skirt and a turquoise silk blouse. The skirt showed off my narrow waist and the curve of my round hips. I did my hair and makeup and put on my jewelry before I woke Lucia.
She needed a lot of coaxing to wake up, so I sat on the edge of her bed and ran my hand over her hair and whispered to her. I made up cute little songs to rouse her from slumber.
“Lucia, Lucia, it’s time to get up. Lucia, Lucia, you have to get ready for school. Lucia, Lucia, don’t be a fool,” I sang, and she giggled. She lay there with her eyes closed and stretched a bit. She knew that once her eyes were open, it would be time to begin her daily routine. I sang on and on until she graced me with eyes that glimmered like the ocean in the morning sun. It always made her happy — and what a wonderful way to start the day.
Lucia put on her school uniform, which was a navy blue plaid with thin white, yellow, and green stripes, a white blouse with a round collar, and a navy blue sweater. She wore navy blue knee-highs and black Mary Janes.
“Come on, baby girl. What do you want for breakfast today?” I asked.
“Good morning, Momma. Um . . . I think I want waffles today,” she replied.
I made some coffee, poured her some orange juice, and popped the waffles in the toaster. She sat at the breakfast bar on the big stool and waited for her food.
“So, do you know what you’re doing in school today?”
Her mouth spread into a big smile that showed the adorable dimples she had gotten from her father.
“Yup, we’re working on our sight words today. I already know them all, but the teacher said I have to work on them with the class anyway.”
“That’s great, baby. You prac
tice so much, don’t you?” I asked.
“I do, Momma, and it helps me learn them faster,” she said with such pride.
I placed in front of her a plate of waffles with very little butter and syrup spread on top, and I continued to sip my coffee.
My daughter was beautiful. She had long, russet brown hair with a slight curl, and her dad’s crystal blue eyes. Her skin was fair, but in the summer, she tanned with ease and never burned. She was small and petite like a little flower. She was a girly girl who loved dresses and pink. In that aspect, she was nothing like me; I was more of a tomboy.
I drove Lucia to St. Augustine’s Catholic School and walked her to her line. All of the children were split by classroom and had to line up until school started. It kept them all in order. We waited there until the teacher came for them. Lucia gave me a big hug, and her little arms could almost make it around my waist. I whispered, “I love you,” in her ear when I bent down, and she kissed my cheek and whispered the same.
Lucia was my sunshine, my partner in crime, and my distraction. She was my heart.
After drop-off, I made my way toward Pershing Drive, our employee parking lot behind LAX. School began at eight for Lucia, so I had plenty of time to make it to work before I started an hour later.
I found a parking spot near the employee bus stop and snagged it fast. I was lucky; most days, those spots were full, and I had to park a long way from the stop. The busses ran every fifteen minutes and I always made the half past tram.
On the way to my workspace, I waved to some of my coworkers. Opening the door to my office, I heard my boss on the phone. I peaked in to let him know I had arrived. He nodded and continued with his conversation. Once I put my stuff away, I got down to business. Since my boss was the manager of a department with over three hundred employees, I was kept busy responding to their needs. I gathered their timecards from my inbox and began to work on payroll. Mr. White handed me some letters to type for him, and then gave me some money to pick up lunch for the both of us.
My Mr. Manny Page 2
